


Meeting the family

by liverose



Series: Thought and feeling [3]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Dreams and Nightmares, Eventual Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Monster of the Week, Possessive Behavior, Romance, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:21:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22696258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liverose/pseuds/liverose
Summary: Geralt had no intention of bringing her to Kaer Mohern, introducing his lover to the other Witchers, because he knew it wouldn't go well. She's taken there anyway, and things go about just as poorly.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Thought and feeling [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1635448
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	1. Dreaming of you

**Author's Note:**

> This can be read solo, though characters of my creation make a bit more sense (I hope) if the other stories in the collection are read.

"She's not here either?! I swear we're putting bells on this girl so we don't have to burn all this leather searching for her." Jaskier threw his hands up in frustraion.

"Well your probabilty of catching her isn't great." Fredrick was more interested in leafing through the dusty tome Geralt had brough than listening to Jaskier whine. "Once a season, that's four days a year. She goes places, does things. Time doesn't stop just because you're not here."

"We'll leave you with your books then, come on Jaskier." Sure Geralt was disappointed that he had missed her but it wasn't as if what Fredrick had stated wasn't true. Time had not stopped, he couldn't ask it to and he had no right to be so uncomfortably blind sighted by the fact that plenty had changed. It was news to him that Anima had moved out of the city and into the outskirts with Fredrick shortly after his last visit. After dropping that small fact Thill had spoken slightly less true words.

"We'd write you with updates if you had an address. She simply thought it would be more efficent to stay with Fredrick seeing as she spends most of her time there anyway." The latter part had been the lie, or rather the omission to spare Thill's feelings. Anima had left the city because she was not welcome there.

"Which way are you headed?" Fredrick nose still to parchment chimed up.

"What does it matter? Looking for something specific?" Glancing over his shoulder at Fredrick, it made sense. He was to Anima what Jaskier was to him. Whereas Geralt needed Jaskier to remind him of the fragile yet artfull human outlook on the world, Anima needed calculated facts and reason to remind her emotions weren't what made the world spin.

"No. I quite like the surprise of it." Fredrick paused to turn a page and wipe away a cob web. "Just figured if you were going north you might be able to catch Anima and the other Witchers."

"Other Witchers?" This put a stop to their step.

"You didn't mention other Witchers. Figure Anima has a type then?" Jaskier tried to gauge Geralt's response. Was it shock, was it Anger? Worry? Jeaslousy? He couldn't tell, he just seemed contimplative, nothing more, nothing less.

"You didn't ask about other Witchers." Fredrick turned another page. "And I don't know. When cataloguing Anima's history we didn't speak much of her proclivity."

"How would we know to ask about what we don't know about?" Jaskier found Fredrick as frustrating as Geralt when it came to holding a conversation but without any of the charm or rare banter.

"Ask more thoughtful questions? Shout less?" The rexluse always had an answer.

"Fredrick. How did you know they were Witchers? What did these other Witchers look like?" Geralt finally spoke up, he was at a loss. Of all the curves he had been thrown when it came to Anima this one did not have him running sword clenched, just standing, contemplating.

"They were Witchers steel, silver, medalions. Looked like you. One more so. One less."

"Good, Great. Wealth of knowledge this one." Jaskier scoffed.

"I know a lot." Fredrick nodded. "Anima always says I'm bad with faces though."

\-- A week prior--

"Anima?! Guests again." Fredrick shouted from the doorway once one of the men stated they were not here for a tour.

"Guests? Who?" Anima called from the farthest corridor, she had been trying to focus, she was audibly annoyed.

"Two Witchers." Fredrick stared at the men he had not welcomed inside. "She sounds upset. Now isn't a good time come back later." He went to close the door without a second thought but a foot wedged it to a stop and a heavy hand pushed it open. The younger of the two men walked inside.

"Two Witchers? Are you sure you haven't read yourself cross eyed and you're just looking at Geralt? Fuck!" She snapped, focus had been fully lost.

"I don't think either of them are Geralt." He gave a harder look between the men.

"You don't think? Fredrick you know what Geralt looks like. You need to get better with faces, if you call Lorna Benton one more time she'll-" Anima paused as she entered the room, she had expected two strangers to be at their door, but this was strange of another variety.

"You smell of death." The more forward, entirely in her home man grimaced.

"Well they're certainly Witchers." She stated flatly.

"I asked them to come back later. They didn't leave. You can try to make them leave!" The prospect of a experiment brought life to the hermit's normally lax eyes. "Don't yet though. I need . . . Anima where's my ink?"

"In your study Fredrick." Anima watched as he scurried past her, leaving her alone with the unknown guests.

"Is that what you did to him? Simple hex?" The man in her home was unimpressed and a bit offended.

"To who?" Anima felt panic set in, overriding any interest in small talk. This was bad, two Witchers unannounced was something even she saw to be a bad omen.

"To my brother. To Geralt."

"He's not here, but you already know that." She wanted to see how much information she could take before she had to give any.

"We do. We've heard word of him in Sodden but we're not here for him. We've come for you." The older Witcher finally and tettering on apologetically breached the door way.

"Why? Has something happened to Geralt?" She continued to pry.

"Not yet. I'm Vesemir and the one busy making terrible first impressions is Lambert."

\--Present--

"Not faces but names. Vesemir and Lambert. I have codex that speak of both of them if you like. In my study, that's where I was when I heard-"

"I know who they are Fredrick." How had more information shed less light on the siutation. What would his fellow Witcher's need with Anima? She was safe, that was a refreshing change of pace. Short of being with them in the room there was no safer company he could imagine. Safe and comforting were two different things. "What did they want with Anima? Where were they going?"

\-- A week prior--

"What do you mean not yet? What do you need me for?"

"Anima I need to show you something."

"Show and tell? Not without Fredrick. He loves that sort of thing." Arms crossed over her chest, trying to be present in the conversation but stuck on the lingering fear that something had happened to Geralt.

"What you need to see isn't here."

"Riddles? Oh you and Fredrick will be fast friends. Are you going to tell me what's going on? What brings two Witchers for a house call?"

"I'd like you to accompany us to Kaer Morhen."

"That's a far ways for a field trip. You couldn't have brought what I needed to see with you? You've brought four hands." She knew of Kaer Moher, Fredrick had multiple books on Witchers of every variety, he had read them to her on nights that sleep was hard to come by.

"I came along to see what the big deal was with you. How he let you snare him still baffles me." Lambert sneered.

"Apologies?" Anima would have gotten snipier but there were still too many questions to waste her breath on pettiness. "And if I refuse to go?"

"Then we leave. And you stay, knowing you were told you'd be the undoing of Geralt and did nothing." Vesemir's tone was kind but his words were threatening.

"Why not tell Geralt himself? I'm sure he doesn't want to be undone." Anima was buying time, weighing her options.

"Fraid he wouldn't listen. I don't aim to lose another Witcher in ways that could be avoided, I'm asking for your help Anima."

"I have no alliance to Witchers. I do have a loyalty to Geralt, don't get the two confused." Anima was begining to piece together what Vessimer was getting at. "Fredrick?"

"Yes?" He popped back into the picture ink well in hand.

"I'll be back. I've got to go waste everyone's time in Kaer Morhen." It only took moments for her to grab her belongings placing them in her small satchel and leave with the Witchers.

\--Present--

"Kaer Morhen! That's why I asked if you were going north." Fredrick's unspoken obviously hung in the air. "That's the fortress of the Witchers under the school of wolf."

"It is." Geralt hadn't even had the forethought to cut Fredrick off.

"Why would they take her there?" Jaskier tried one of those thoughtful questions.

"I think they believe Anima will kill Geralt."

"Hmm" They had gotten all the illumination they would recieve in Lyria. Geralt left curious if he wasn't the only Witcher having the visions that plauged him as of late.

It had been quiet, their trek north, Anima smirked at the thought of Thill going all these hours and days just walking in dirt and silence. "If you're walking slow on purpose hoping Geralt will catch up that's a bad plan." Lambert shouted from far ahead.

"I'm not slow, you Witchers just have stamina that I don't." She barked back. She happened upon the theroy this was why Geralt rode Roach. If he walked, he'd leave Jaskier in his dust without even thinking. She had only barely seen the mare speed past a trot, perhaps it was a purposeful action to keep in time with human companions.

"We can rest if you'd like." For a man who thought she'd be the death of a family member Vesemir was being quite accommodating.

"No need." This wasn't a scenic stroll this was a strong armed journey, rest wasn't in her mind.

"I thought you'd have more to say. Questions about Geralt or Witchers in general." He had completely stopped, waiting for her to catch up, he also seemed to be looking for something in the distance.

"Not for you." She'd take all the answers and conversations Geralt would endulge her in but as previously stated it was Geralt she was interested in, loyal to, whose words she gave weight too, she knew nothing of these men and wanted nothing from them. She could hear metal shake and vibrate against his armor. Not to devalue her words she didn't ask.

"Stay still girl. You hear me? Lambert do you see it?" Silver was unsheathed and the air grew tense.

"It's just a wraith." Eyes were scanning for the fluttering spectre.

"I'll go for the body there's a house up ahead. Anima stay-"

"Still. Got it." Anima could feel it, the anger and hatred that willed the soul from the body Vesemir had gone searching for. It was ringing in her ears, or maybe that was it's shrieks she couldn't distinguish. He was fast, she watched as Lambert fought against wrath and dust. Her vision blurred, as she had trained it to, washing out to smears of red and white.

Hatred, it came in all forms, for all reasons it was not normally in her experience as blood red and ear piercing as this. She had sensed it from Lambert himself in their silent steps. in him it was a washed out pink hue, an annoying ever present buzz. He held hatred towards her. For putting Geralt in some unknown peril. For stealing him away from his brothers, for keeping him. He hated her for not being worth the trek from Kaer Morhen, worth fighting an echo of a vengeful human and certainly not worth the white wolf's time and affection. "Move!" Lambert had shoved her down to the ground, his back to her as he continued his fast counters and lunges, perhaps he was even faster than Geralt. Red and white made room for a splotch of pink, for Lambert. It was in full view, Lambert, the wraith, and the white noise around them.

"Right you fucking idiot!" The red was swooping in at his flank, only giving him a second's time to dodge. Red hatred was becoming brighter almost orange, almost want. She knew this one too, sensed it in Vesemir, again watery and muted, a peachy hum. He wanted more for the Witchers, for Lambert, for Geralt, he wanted them to survive, more than that to live. Kind as he atempted to be he saw Anima as less than survival, less than what Geralt deserved. The longer she staid among the colors the more latched to her bones they became, more viable and real. "Behind you." It had been, only for a second but then it was infront, around, and fully encompassing her. All Anima could see was flames of orange and red burning her alive, cooking her with hatred. "Ahhh!"

Would her last thoughts be of her own hatred? Would she be doomed to return as a wraith herself? Was this all some elaborate trap? It was loud, so loud that she wept. She hated all of them, everyone. she would die in the dirt hating the world for fumbling in her creation. Too different, but not different enough. she had no place, no understanding and she hated the gods for allowing her to suffer this long. She hated herself for dragging those too selfless to abandon her down into the fire. She hated that she would die alone, that Geralt was far off and would hear of her demise in some vauge retelling months from now. She wanted him, not to save her, just to not let her die alone, to die hating. She held the thought, as she felt skin slice and tear from her arms. She was determined not to turn, not to make Geralt stake her corpse. Orange was lightening, diminishing she was trying to remember the sound of yellow, the sound of his slowed heartbeat.

"What's wrong with your eyes?" Lambert was crouched over her occupying the space the wraith had been clutching her and upon the body being attended to by Vesemir had dropped her.

"Lot of nerve." Anima clenched her eyes shut, blindly reaching into her bag, fumbling till finally she felt the smooth glass of an aging jam jar under her fingers. She didn't have a clear enough mind to voice how rich it was to have a Witcher comment on abnormal eyes. Her thumb ran over the glass in strokes mimicking her favorite heartbeat hoping to regain her sight, her clarity. ' _Well there's only so much graveyards and color wheels can prepare you for.'_ She nearly felt bad that Fredrick had missed the fruits of their training. In big watery blinks her eyes returned to normal, the physical world came back into focus. "You killed it." Her tone was more surprised than anything else as she ran her fingers over claw marks on her arm.

"Vesemir killed it." Lambert was standing again, he made no atempt to help her to her feet. "A sorceress then? Makes a bit more sense. Geralt always had a liking for unstable powder kegs." The light pink hatred was still there, but he seemed slightly less uncomfortable with her presence.

"I like to think myself more a specialist than a sorceress." Fredrick had coined the term, she was more than a human empath, the magic in her veins made sure of that, but she had tried and failed to tap into powers that extended beyond feelings. In his own unintentional optimism he had spun her to be not good at a lot but the best at what she did.

"Think what you like." Lambert seemed to quickly grow disinterested in the conversation.

"You could have let it kill me. That would have solved all your problems wouldn't it?" The Witcher's actions had been less than practical.

"Could have." Was the only response she got. "Vesemir? Come on enough short stepping." Once the elder witcher came into view Lambert was off at his long pace again.

"We'll stop to patch you up soon alright?" It became aparent that the lack of comfort hadn't just vanished from Lambert but transferred over to his companion.

"Do you think they want to make her a Witcher?"

"They couldn't even if they wanted to. And they don't want to." Geralt had been shutting Jaskier's theroies, each more absurd than the last for days now, it was growing tiresome.

"Hmm. Well maybe she knows them, you might not be the only Witcher she's bedded over the years. It just hasn't come up in conversation."

"And they're taking her all the way to Kaer Morhen for some decetant Witcher orgy?"

"I . . . is that a thing?" There was a song not for the ears of children in there somewhere.

"It is not. They aren't taking her there to appreciate fine Witcher dining either."

"Ok then if you know them so well what do the Witcher's want with Anima?" He had asked this question before and Geralt's answer had always been the same.

"Nothing good." He had a hunch, linked to the visions he got in his sleep but he was trying his best not to give credence to bad dreams especially those with so much blood.

The scenery changed, it was wherever he had laid his head but it played out the same. She was standing infront of whatever tree he was leaned against or bed he was lying on and had some doom laden look in her eyes. He would always stand, and that's when it started, beneath his feet he could hear the crunch of broken glass. There was blood, her blood, first from her eyes then from her ears, it came out her mouth when she started coughing. "Keep going. Don't stop, just . . . I can. . .I know . . ." Her voice dissolved into bubbling croaks. He walks to her, the sound continues, echoes bending and snapping under each footstep. Her blood is everywhere, her skin just as spidered and broken as the sound would imply. When he's there infront of her it hits him out of nowhere each time. A ripping stab right through his ribs, right into his heart. The pain is real, it's not some metaphoric ache, he could feel tendons give under jagged edges. A shard of what appears to be a mirror is in her bloddy hand, it was Anima, eyes still stormy and filled with doom and pain pressed the makeshift blade deeper and deeper inch by inch till finally Geralt would wake.

"So this is it?" Anima's legs were tired from keeping pace with the Witchers, her stomach grumbled wanting anything but waxy cheese and dried mystery meats, her injured arms itched under browning bandages and it had been all to get here, to the Kaer Morhen spoken so mysticaly in Fredrick's books.

"This is all that's left of the Witchers under the wolf." Vesemir nodded.

"So . . . you brought me here to . . . admire the architecture? Take a fencing class? What exactly?" Maybe the silence had gotten to Anima more than she thought.

"I want you to fully understand how empty this place is. How few of us are left." It was true, for such a large fortress it did seem bare, frozen and lifeless.

"I . . ." She paused, she didn't want to be rude, it truly was not her goal. "I'm sorry, really I am. but what does that have to do with me?"

"I worry your attachment to Geralt will lead to his demise. I've known him since he was young I've never known him to linger like this."

"Linger? That's why you dragged me half way cross the continent?! Because he visits too often? I know you think I've put some life draing hex . . .hex was it? On Geralt and how ever I can prove to you that having someone who cares isn't demon fodder I'll do it but this was all a bit dramatic don't you think?"

"You ramble because you know I'm right. You must understand that Witchers are not meant to be tethered to any given place, any person-"

"Unless it's here? Unless it's you?" Anima dug in her heels. Outside she tossed the notion aside as quickly as it came, inside doubt started to fester, over just a simple word, linger, a simple recolection, was that why Lambert faster?

"A witcher's life is not meant to be comfortable and Geralt's gotten too comfortable with you. Comfort is quicksand Anima, Won't kill you till it's up to your ears" Vesemir was not letting up, beating the point into the ground. "I know what I'm asking is difficult. I've cared for someone they way you do for Geralt and it was not a pleasant decision to leave her, but I did, to keep her safe. What I needed you to see is this place, is off the path for a reason, to make the distance in everday life bareable. You must be strong enough to leave Geralt, to keep him from an early grave."

"Lambert what vile words are you drowning the poor bird in?" A female voice echoed through the empty courtyard.

"I haven't said shit. Do you see my lips moving Merigold? Why do you assume it was me?"

"Because I get that same forelorn look everytime you manage to form words." She wasn't a witcher, that was imidetly aparent, though she didn't seem nearly as out of place as Anima did in this mutant men's only club. "So you're the famed excecutioner are you?" She shared something with Lambert, a gaze that held stedfastly unimpressed as she sized Anima up. "He certainly has a type doesn't he? Your eyes are . . . different." Why was everyone trying to solve her? Examine her? It made her skin crawl. She wasn't a beast in a cage, she was a person, as they made her feel smaller and smaller it was a fact she had to remind herself. "Come on I'll take a look at your injuries."

"I'm just saying I think trolls have gotten a bit of a bad shake. Of all the beasts I've watched you . . . Geralt?" Jaskier could do little more than call out as Roach sped up under Geralt's reigns. "Not a fan of trolls, fair." Jaskier quickened his pace, knowing full well Geralt hadn't been listening for near an hour and had been spurred to haste by something else entirely.

It wasn't fresh, maybe a day or so old but it had caught his nose all the same. Not a lot, not enough to be serious but it was there, Anima's blood, Lambert's too. As Roach hovered over stained foliage, death dust caught in the dried blood, Geralt was gripped with a maccob jealousy. Not in the sense that he thought Labert would touch Anima with a ten foot poll, Eskel maybe but not Lambert. No, Anima was out in the wilds being attacked by wraiths and it wasn't him keeping her safe in the way only he could. Short of simple gifts and love in it's most physical expression Geralt had few ways to show his affection. He was built on actions not words, he protected her, that was his job, his proffesion of love. Witchers defended humans against monsters it's what they did, what they always have done. Lambert had done it on muscle memory alone he was sure. While Geralt was thankful that she had one of his brothers protecting her, if this moment had to happen why was it not his? Anima wasn't the humans they've always saved, always would. She didn't belong under any Witcher's protection, she belonged under his.

She had used her ability, there was no physical evidence but Anima's history with monsters gave him no reason to believe otherwise. Witchers knew of all manner of monsters and beast but no one other than him had even begun to understand Anima. She was probably drowning downstream on an emotion without him to bring her ashore. She wasn't helpless, wasn't a damsel in distress but he protected her, that's what he did, it's how he proved he loved her right? Not the healthiest display but she was giving him time to figure something else out. Why had they taken that from him? As he stared longer and longer at the dried blood he swore he heard the sound of breaking glass, a sharp pain came to his chest on cue. "Geralt?" It hadn't been glass but twigs and leaves under Jaskier's feet.

 _'I think they believe Anima will kill Geralt.'_ Fredrick's words rang in Geralt's ears before he nudged Roach back into a trot.

"So what did the relic tell you?" Merigold was pealing back already loose bandages from Anima's arm, reviling claw marks. "You heal fast, not as fast as then gents." She seemed to be taking mental notes.

"That Geralt coming to visit me in Lyria is the worst travisty to befall Witcher kind. That his attatchment to me is . . .quicksand."

"And you shot him down with that same scathing tone you're using with me?" She was applying something that both burned and and cooled Anima's skin at the same time.

"No." She had protested but not enough, not with her normal confidence.

"No? Because you believe him?"

"No I . . . I'm not sure. Do I think me loving Geralt is some death kneel no but to visit Lyria so often, limits where he can travel. What if he grows less familiar with creatures of the west and one gets to him? What if he journeys less and he slows? All those beasts are so . . . fast." The quickness in the wraith, in Lambert, was she dulling it in Geralt? Witchers worked in seconds it would only take one that he stepped too slow for something tragic to happen.

"Your first mistake is not being sure. Witcher's hate uncertainty. When dealing with them you have to be sure, even if you're not."

 _'More riddles.'_ Anima rolled her eyes, these people were not like those she was familiar with. Humans may impractical but they hardly spoke in neutralities, for better or for worse.

"This seems simple enough. If you love Geralt so much why not travel with him? He's already got a bard in toe, he's had other equally incapable companions over the years." Merigold must've heard the insult in her words. "No offense."

"Sure." Anima scoffed. What had they thought she was going to be that she failed to meet expectations so unanimously? "Geralt worries that I'm not exactly travel ready."

"He is a worrier that one. Well you have options, there's always options. Either you tell Vesemir that Geralt is a grown adult that can make his own choices and deal with the concequences. You tell Geralt that YOU are a grown adult that can make your own choices and deal with the conceqences. Or you can be a child and leave all the decision making to the grown ups." There was extra twist to the last knot in her bandages.

"Right." They were words to think on, snippy mean spirited words, but words for thought none the less. "Is there somewhere I could nap?" She didn't care if this brought another comment as to her abudent weakness, she was too tired to care.

"I suppose Geralt's room is as good as any. If the stories are true if your in Kaer Morhen he can't be far behind."

"And that room is?" Perhaps it was all the Witcher energy soaked into the walls that drained her of any desire to engage in witty banter, more likely though she really was just that tired.

"Up the stair on the left." Without another word Anima went to find long sought after rest, at this point she didn't even care if the nightmares came.

Of course they did, why would this night be any different than the others since Geralt had left Lyria. It was always some forest she swore she'd never been in, there was snow and stone maybe in a mountain range? It was secluded, it was dense, she was lost. "Hello?" She couldn't be here alone could she? Listening for an answer she could faintly hear clashing metal, swords. She shouldn't go near, she should find a trail, find a way out but she ignores sound reasoning and cranes her ears, letting the sound of battle guide her footsteps. Eventually she found them, it was Geralt because of course it was and it was a monster because of course it was. Except it wasn't, not exactly, this creature was more man than monster, it's movments bizzare and animilistic but a human form, a womans form as she willed her eyes to move as fast as the glints of silver. She knew this woman, who the hell was she and why was Geralt fighting her? This woman was faster, faster than Geralt maybe even faster than Lambert. He wore the bruises and blood of being slower. She had to help. iI would be quick, she was stronger now. It barely hurt at the beginning, till the injuries just kept coming, jammed fingers and bruised ribs were fine, the superficial flesh wounds stung, the pulsing gash above the navel made her falter in her footing but Geralt had not only been bearing it but pushing through it. She ignored the sheer biology that spoke otherwise and believed she could too. She couldn't, she was undone not by a blade or unfathomable pain but by mere words, his words. "I told you to stay back! Why couldn't you just listen? Now we're both dead." Undone was the wrong word, she was unraveled, common sense she had been ignoring now wasn't even crossing her mind.

"I'm not useless!" She spat as she gave it all back, his injuries hise heartbeat, if he wanted it so badly he could have it. She wasn't done though, she wasn't backing down she was charging into battle blindly. It was effortless the heartbeat of his opponent was easy too easy to attach to. She felt powerful, limitless, untouchable but as the feelings continued to crash over her she felt it, detatched. Where was she? Who was she? Where did she end and this mystery being she had attatched to begin? Was she feeling anything at all? White washed over her view. For a long second she sensed nothing, saw no color, was surrounded endlessly by the white void. Then, just as the times before , it came in and saved her, grounded her, Geralt's heartbeat. Something was wrong.

As the forest emerged from the white, the steady heartbeat was anything but, it was jumbled and irregular. He was staring at her wide eyed, were there tears holding their place at the corner? When had he gotten so close? Her hand, it was cut. Looking down she saw the protruding shard of glass in her hand, in his chest, their blood mixing and dripping onto the quiet forest floor. She could still feel it, hearing the blocky knocks of a struggling pulse calling out to her. She pulled it out slowly, cringing at the gurgles and gasps as Geralt fell to his knees. "I'm sorry! Gerlalt fuck I'm sorry! Don't stop breathing. I'll fix this I know I can fix this." She held her palm against the wound waiting for the bleeding to slow under the pressure, to begin healing, it never did.


	2. Soft among stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family spats in Kaer Morhen are intense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just figured out how to make a series so if you'd like the other's are available.

"Hellooo?" How long had someone been patiently knocking at to door.

"Huh?" She woke in a cold sweat, knotting fists in her blankets till the adrenalin subsided.

"Sorry to wake you. Your definition of nap is a bit lax though." It was a man, a man she hadn't met. She contemplated just ignoring him, she didn't want anymore riddles or judgement of her metal. Letting out a deep sigh she wondered if Geralt felt this emotionally taxed when speaking with her friends. She eventually made her way to the door figuring if she didn't relent, it would simply be kicked down in a show of brawn.

"Hi." It had been a while since she smiled so vapidly, but old tricks were easily to fall back on in times of distress.

"Hungry?" His eyes weren't analyzing her, dissecting and measuring her, they were curious but just enough, just as to whether or not he had cooked eggs for no reason.

 _'Another Witcher._ ' His eyes pointed out something a little more obvious. "I . . yes thank you." Her smile got some life to it as she took the plate from him.

"Eskel." There wasn't much to say, he seemed content with this being both an introduction and end to the conversation as he turned to leave. "Before you going barking that it's bland. Everything here is, you won't find salts and spices in the pantry so don't bother. Blows out the pallet." He was already walking.

"Guess you don't get very many unheightened tongues here do you?"

"Weird way to put it." He stopped, leaning against a wall to think for a minute. "But no." His words were short and lacked friendliness but in a way more similar to Geralt. He simply said what he thought and felt no need to put decorations on it. He leaned harder, thinking harder his whole brow furrowed.

"Everything . . . .ok?" Anima spoke between bites, bland or not warm food was an improvement.

"Don't let then get to you. They mean well all of em but . . . you seem put out by it all." He seemed displeased with his words shaking his head slightly. "There's booze in your cupboard I think. Take the edge off the place."

"You mean Geralt's cupboard. He's touchy about his things I wouldn't want to fuss about-"

"His yours I don't see the difference. Go on no need to stand in the doorway with your mouth open." He didn't budge from his lean till she retreated a few steps into the room, taking this as an invite to enter behind.

"So I assume you'd like some?" Anima wasn't quite sure what to make of Eskel, he wasn't speaking in riddles but he was surely becoming one.

"If you're offering." Another wall, another lean and more thought. After finding the liquor in a low seated drawer Anima passed it directly to Eskel. She didn't want to take the edge of the place. She didn't want to be comfortable in Kaer Moher.

 _'Comfort is quicksand.'_ She let out an audible "Ugh" As she sat back down on the bed. She didn't even know what she was still doing here. She should just storm out and head back to Lyria, bump paths with Geralt if she was lucky.

"Witchers aren't big talkers. Normally doesn't stop people." He sat down next to her. It clicked what he was trying to do, he was trying to seem approachable, trying to allow her to vent.

"I have shoulders in Lyria to cry on but thanks."

"I'm sure that you do." He even spoke like Geralt. "But they're not here, that's no coincidence." He was explaining that while Vesemir could mean well all he wanted him isolating her away from her security network was nothing less than strategic.

"Has Lambert always been faster than Geralt?" She caved, she had to know.

"What? Is that what's got your smalls in a knot? Looking to upgrade? Trust me Lambert should be no lady's first through third-"

"Was he?"

"Well possibly" He was considering her words before speaking further. "They're both a bit faster than me and before you ask that's not how I got the scar." How many sentences did he plan to halve that way? He was willing to talk but was clear as to what tangent not to take. "Never bothered to think about it you know why?"

"No." Anima shook her head stuffing the last of the eggs in her face.

"It doesn't mean shit because my form is better than both of em. Even Vesemir forgets that not all Witcher's are built exactly alike. All have strengths, weaknesses. It does you better to focus on your own strengths not those of others." He seemed like he was about speak again when his attention was pulled elsewhere. "Not that much slower then." He gave a snort.

These gates weren't used to opening with frequency anymore, the splintering and creaking gave merit to this. They didn't wait till they opened fully to pass through. "Geralt." It wasn't clear if Vesemir had been waiting to greet or stop him.

"Vesemir. Where is she?" There were few people Geralt viewed as his equal and even less as his superior. Vesemir held such a distinct title which kept Geralt's tone civil but couldn't completely hold back the anger brewing in his chest.

"I needed to speak with her." The elder witcher nodded. "See the bard's still with you." Tension wasn't easing, only festering in two impossibly control driven men.

"And are you done talking to her? The wraith days back is she-"

"You think we'd let her die?"

"Are you done with her?" Geralt's jaw was clenching, fists balling, he would only bear formalities for so long. He already found her, them, he was already taking steps with the sole purpose to take her from this place.

"Geralt?" Jaskier knew this stance, this posture, the Witcher was inches away from battle. Weren't these his brothers? His comrades? Why was he coming in so piping hot?

"Cool your heels Geralt. Vesemir's only doing what you gone too soft to." It was Lambert rounding the courtyard.

"This isn't going to end well." Jaskier cringed, watching as Geralt's shoulders expanded in a way to make him seem even larger, even more menacing. He could almost hear the snarl of wolves.

"Just lookin after-" There was a heavy crack as Geralt's fist connected with Lamberts jaw. He could not, would not strike at his superior but felt no such qualms with his equal in Lambert.

"I don't need your nose in my business. What I do outside of contracts is not your concern."

"Geralt we just don't want to lose you." Vesemir was off to the side, speaking as if two of his pupils did not have each other at the collars.

"She's just a road tart there's no reason to fly off the handle. Look at yourself!" Lambert was not one to simply take a punch and struck back, trying to knock sense into his brother. Geralt grimaced too hot with anger to register the hit as pain, his hold on Lambert did not falter bucking his neck back he headbutted his fellow Witcher only letting him go to sweep out his leg, he quickly fell with him or more correctly on him, pinning his throat with a forearm.

"This is what you choose to hang up on? I don't hear your griping years on years when I'm being blead by Bruxa and Kikimore. Now your eyeing my movements? I've grown accustom to taking leaks on lakeshores you need to hold my cock to keep me safe? Leave her out of your plans for me." It was clear Lambert was taking the brunt of Geralt's anger but the words were pointed toward Vesemir. "You don't know-" The pressure grew harder.

"Exactly we don't know what she's done to you Geralt." Vesemir sounded tired more than anything.

"I know you've brought her here to take her from me. And I won't . . . " He wasn't possessive, he was trying not to be but he had smelled nothing but Anima and Eskel in old sheets of his and it was driving him mad.

"Well this is … new" Jaskier wasn't refencing Geralt's unnecessary use of force so much as how crass and open he was with his speech. "And there she is." Jaskier's bewildered eyes shot up to the balcony. "Anima! Good to see you stir the pot wherever you go."

"Jaskier?! G. . . Geralt?!" She had followed Eskel when he wordlessly left the room only to see Geralt and Lambert exchanging blows in the dirt. She went to run down to his side but a heavy hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"Let them have it out." Eskel didn't seem worried or even surprised. "It's good that their finally speaking their minds."

"I don't see the good." She cringed watching one of Lambert's knees lifted to connect with Geralt's gut. "Or much speaking." All she could hear were the two Witcher's grunting and cursing at one another, occasionally peppered with a name call.

"Anima tell me. How thrilled were your family with you choosing Geralt?"

"Huh? They loved him before I did." It had been Thom so eager to invite Geralt into their lives, it had been Thill who was so sure she was smitten with the Witcher. Orwen had contracted him back into the picture.

"That's not what I asked. You mean to tell me there were no reservations about your relationship?"

"They didn't . . " It was hard to think watching as the two bulls got to their feet only to interlock horns again. It did eventually come back to her, Thom and Thill blaming Geralt for getting her kidnapped. Janis worrying that Anima was wasting her life waiting on a Witcher. Orwen setting her up on a date with a fellow Viscount to show her 'options'. Even Fredrick had weighed in, unable to believe Witchers were capable of love, it was in a book and thus it had to be true, Anima had to be mistaken. "I didn't beat the shit out of them to get them to come around!" She gestured wildly at Geralt who had thrown Lambert at a stone wall. Lambert was fast on his heels and spun charging a tackle at Geralt's center.

"No you could convince them over time, humans like that. He hasn't been back in years Geralt, there was no need, there was no time for convincing. You're missing the bigger point here." Eskel could feel her pulling to get free from his hold, but he gripped her tighter.

"Bigger point? Let go Eskel I-"

"You were harping on Lambert's speed earlier. Look down there. What do you see? Speed, form?" He could see the answer form on her lips.

"Geralt's stronger."

He always had been, had always needed to be. Through the trial of the grasses it had been his strength, his will to live that allowed him to survive and go beyond what Witchers before him were able to bear. It was strength that had kept him alive in battles of brawn with beasts and politics with people. He would take blow after blow straight on the chin because he would take on all the world threw at him. He was the White Wolf, the Butcher of Blavakin, he was whatever the world asked of him so that he wouldn't disappear from existence. He was strong because he had to be, he'd have long since died if he wasn't strong, sturdy, more resilient than the world that needed him. Perhaps speed was better for dodging, form best for precision blows and it's not that Geralt lacked those traits, they simply were not enough to base the long fight on. It was strength that allowed him to endure. "Geralt get off of him!" Anima finally wrenched herself free and half ran, half stumbled down a moss laden stair well. He had done just that, at the sound of his name that still rang just right, Geralt had tossed Lambert to the ground, staring at her, assessing the damage. Had he gotten here in time? Did he protect her from Kaer Morhen?

"Like a nutered pup." Lambert grumbled as he got to his feet. Anima all but ignored that jab as she found her way to Geralt.

 _'Twat.'_ All but. "Look at your damn face Geralt." She ran fingers over a busted eyebrow. "Do you always make such a ruckus when visiting home? Breath Geralt." He was huffing his eyes had a glaze as he willed himself out of a concussion.

"No" Heavy long breaths steamed out of his nose as a hand pulled around her waist, pulling her against his chest, as if someone would snatch her away again. "I don't." He added making clear he did intend on continuing to bring in air.

"Then why now?" She pulled back just enough to make sure their eyes met, that he still saw her.

"Why?" His jostling brain was having a hard time understanding the need for this question. For her, clearly. To save her from being banished from him. He tilted his head to the side, she was angry, at him. Why? Did she not want him to fight for her? Had he come too late and she'd caved under their warnings or just been off put by Witchers in general.

"You stopped them because you were worried about Geralt's face?" Vesemir's question had an ever present air of judgment.

"No." Maybe it was being among Geralt's hold or even in part due to Eskel's pep talk but Anima had regained her confidence. "I stopped them because this is pointless."

"Pointless? Geralt just went ten rounds with . . . the other one." Jaskier had not been allowed introductions. "Defending your honor."

"He wasn't fighting like he was defending my honor." She could see the pain and worry pull any color from Geralt's cheeks. Had it not been enough? Had he not been strong enough this time?

"What the fuck do you want from him Anima?" Jaskier put words and a bit more malice to what Geralt was thinking.

"He was fighting as if he had lost me. As if he could lose me." That's where the anger was coming from. He hadn't trusted her to be strong on her own, to love him amidst uncomfortable circumstances. "I meant what I said Geralt. I aim to keep you." The phrase still sounded threatening to her ears but it seemed to ease the worry. "While permission is nice it's not necessary." She shot a glance over at Vesemir.

"It's not good on your health to charge between two Witchers. Do you always run so fool hardy?" This question was more curious than outright judgmental

"I have been known to." There was no point in lying, the Bruxa, the bandits, Voyanoi not for lack of Geralt's efforts she had a habit of leaping before thinking. "But I've come to the realization . . . hell my dreams have been plagued by it that my skills are more apt to avoiding fights than finishing them." She could be helpful, useful even but her tactics had to reflect her strengths.

"What good does that do him?" Lambert was wiping blood from his lip. "If I was to attack you right now." A blade rose sticking with just enough pressure at the side of Anima's neck, she cold feel her own pulse flicker against silver.

"Lambert that's enough." Merigold rounded out the full party. Geralt's hand still around Anima's waist went to pull her behind him but her feet didn't move. His eyes were locked on her, he could see what she was attempting and it chilled him.

"Anima don't." She was wincing, her breath shortened, she had his heartbeat, they were connected. She grabbed the blade, squeezing as if it would break under her hold. It didn't, but neither did she, there was no blood where it should be, no gash in her palm. The lack of injury should have been comfort to Geralt but it didn't. "Anima who-"

"Fuck." The blade fell, and Lambert removed a glove with his teeth, it was him who was bleeding, he was the one she had attached to.

"I'm not fast, or strong or even clean. I am perceptive I feel your intention before either of us know. If I'm to fall in battle I won't go down alone." Her breath was coming back and a lingering sting shot up her hand.

"What the hell have you and Fredrick been up to in those woods?" Jaskier was actually impressed by how much Anima's skills had grown.

"Have you let go of him Anima? You know how I feel about you attaching to Witchers." He could hear it, the breaking glass, feel the stab to the chest. If she fell it'd be him she took down with her.

"A dark magic is inside you, forbidden. What means were you made for?" Merigold was inspecting Lambert's mostly superficial wound.

"Witchers were made to protect man from monster. It's hazy but after some research-"

"It doesn't matter." Geralt snuffed the conversation from existence. Whatever she had been made for was irrelevant, if it called for her he'd fight it. She might bleed dark magic but she was nothing but light to him, and he would not lose that. "Anima you heard me right?" She hadn't answered him and he hadn't missed that.

"I can't promise that it won't happen again Geralt." She sounded apologetic as she kneaded a stinging hand. "Man instinctually fears the wolf. They absent mindedly over look the fox." These were old words she had heard years before, or something to that effect. They were foreign and meant little to her but it was the only answer she offered Merigold. "I let go." Anima's breath had fully returned to her, heartbeat back to it's non Witcher's pace.

"We're leaving." Geralt's hold on Anima tightened, a stern glance held with Lambert. A display above all else that he would not take anymore outbursts.

"Leaving?" Jaskier's legs would not allow it. They had hiked so far and fast to get here, the human needed rest. Before he could protest further another voice beat him to it.

"You've only just arrived. Stay a while." It was Eskel, only when the chest pounding theatrics were over had he made his way down the stairs. "Can't you see how much we've missed you?" There was a dry chuckle to his voice. Geralt could feel some knots loosen in Anima's muscles at the sight of him and it left him feeling green and sickly. "You and your bard look haggard. Rest a bit, stay for dinner atleast? Right Vesemir?" If Lambert was his equal Eskel was his match. They had been cut from the very same cloth, the closest thing Geralt had to twin though the only likeness they shared outwardly rested in their eyes.

"Please Geralt." Jaskier aching calves were all to eager to accept this mercy.

"You should stay the night." Practical to a fault Vesemir nodded. "Geralt this is still your home." At those words he looked down at Anima, she was home, not this mausoleum, it was her.

"We can stay Geralt. You've suffered though Lyrian nonsense. A change of scenery might do you good." She didn't want him to turn his back on them, brash brutes they might have been but they were his family, they cared for him. He deserved their care, this Witchers attempt for love they had for him. She would not have him throw it aside, especially not on her behalf.

"Fine." He didn't seem to approve, he wanted to leave but he was out voted. "Jaskier don't poke your nose where it doesn't belong."

"He tried to kill you and he likes YOU." Jaskier put his arms up in surrender.

"He wasn't trying to kill me. He's not that dumb." Geralt snorted finally letting go of Anima. "Right?" He turned to the man he had moments ago been pummeling through the earth.

"Not worth my time." Lambert had half a scowl half a smirk on his face.

"Right, everything's . . . fine now." Jaskier fully gave up all in one swift motion. "Please tell me this isn't a dry fortress?" If you can't understand them, drink them tolerable he figured.

"Come on bard, you've earned a pint." Eskel gestured him over. "We'll see you two at dinner alright? Unwind Geralt or you'll snap."

"What was Eskel doing up here?" Geralt and Anima had gone back to his room.

"It must get tiresome . . . smelling EVERYTHING." The same wall a nearly symmetrical lean, it was spooky how similar the two were.

"Better to be bothered with a sense than without one." She hadn't answered and the sick feeling from earlier sloshed in his stomach.

"He didn't touch your things don't worry. Though he did have some of your liquor, or as he reasoned our liquor."

"Hmm." He didn't care about his things, whatever he had left here had been exactly that, left. "Bit early to be drinking don't you think?"

"I think he was trying to calm my nerves. He's nice, Eskel, he made me eggs." She held up the clean plate. It didn't take an empath to figure something was gnawing at Geralt. She sat down on the bed and patted a spot next to her calling him over.

"Hmm." He was reverting to his barely verbal response because he was unsure what he thought, how he felt and that made the sickness worse. He had never made her breakfast. Should he have? That seemed like something couples did but she'd never made him breakfast either. They hadn't really ever done what normal couples did but when was the time? There was always monsters or heartache or something else fully encompassing their time and attention. Eskel had found time, he'd known Anima less than a day and he'd found a way to show her that Witchers could be soft, could be caring. Why hadn't he found the time?

"Geralt?" She laid out, resting her head in his lap.

"Hmm?"

"Enough with that what's wrong?"

"Do you . . . You've been having dreams lately?" He was still thinking on Eskel but he didn't want to word it incorrectly.

"That's not what's bothering you." She squinted, it wasn't quite jealousy, he trusted her, he trusted Eskel but it was a shade of envy she couldn't quite figure out.

"I've had them too, there's . . . always so much blood." He continued ignoring the subject and switched to an issue he figured he could tackle. Her whole body tenses and she goes to sit up but he holds her firmly at his lap.

"I wouldn't do it, I'd figure away out of it I swear I'd never-" Her words were pleading forgiveness for an act that hadn't happened.

"It's not literal, you can't take dreams at face value Anima. You're much too slow to the get the jump on me." He tried to ease her but it had the opposite effect, she was rigid as a board.

"I wasn't me . . . I was . . . I had attached to something."

"What?"

"I don't know she seemed . . . familiar."

"Have you noticed anyone following you and Fredrick?"

"What happened to not literal?"

"Hmm." He was stroking her hair as he tried to figure if he had vexed someone recently that was still alive to scheme about it. "Doesn't matter." He hated picking apart theories and visions, he'd think harder when he had hard facts. It didn't change that whatever whoever it was haunting their dreams he wouldn't allow it to become reality.

"So?" She shuffled herself to allow for an hand to run wistfully up and down his spine.

"So what?" His eyes closed allowing himself to focus on the sparks and shivers she produced when raking across certain inches of skin.

"Nightmares aren't whats got you so knotted. You're sitting so ask any question you'd like." Her hand slipped under his tunic, fingers warmer and closer to that skin that arched to and away from her.

"Eskel was . . . he was soft with you wasn't he?" His eyes jolted open as caressing fingers met in a harsh slap to his back. ' _Yup wrong words.'_ He groaned at the prickly sting.

"What are you implying Geralt?" She sat up staring daggers into him. "What do you take me for? I . . . I'm not what I was when you met me. I don't just jump in bed with anyone with a whim I-" She was cut off by a kiss but she pushed him off with force, slapping him again, this time across the face. "Stop it Geralt I'm in no mood!" Her face was red with anger and a bit of shame. Had he never stopped thinking her a whore?

"I didn't mean it like that." He rubbed some of the heat from his struck cheek. "Anima I think . . ." He thought the world of her but that phrase seemed too corny to out of character to hit sincere. "I think I never have the right words, right actions . . . when it comes to you, us. I'm sorry that I can't . . . I've never made you eggs." He more or less gave up mid explanation, he still had no idea how to express a feeling he didn't understand.

"Eggs?" She was just as confused as him.

"Don't strike me?" He asked too politely for permission before kissing her again. It was different than before, than anytime before. It wasn't crushing and starving it was tepid and savoring, it was soft. This was what he wanted, what he was awkwardly asking for, softness. He felt her fingers undo the tie to his hair, combing through strands tenderly, lovingly. While he very much enjoyed their desperate indulgences in lust before, he wanted to prove he could love her differently, with a different sort of strength. Not mounting her on a kitchen table before they burst but letting his hands run over her, commit her to memory. He went to lay her down, on a proper bed, his bed but she did not lean under his hands. Her palms left his scalp and held at his chest. "Anima?" Perhaps she didn't want softness from Geralt just the strength she was accustomed to, maybe the extra mutagen inside him was what made Eskel capable and him inept. He felt a bit disappointed he hadn't been given a chance, but he could burry the disappointment, give her whatever she wanted, whatever would please her, keep her.

"Stop overthinking Geralt." She pulled his tunic off of him. Butterfly kisses dotted warmly in trails down from his neck to his chest, down to his abdomen. "You worry too much."

"Anima." He hadn't known how badly he craved this, heavy petting was impractical, but delightfully so. She tugged at the top of his trousers, he shifted his hips enough for her to pull the too the tops of his boots. The kisses resumed, worn knees, scared thighs, a warm line from one hip to another. "Anima I . . . should be . . ." A hand was weaving its way into her long hair. "Doing something." He felt energy and blood pool lower and lower he wanted to participate but as close as her lips were as a whole she seemed miles away. "You don't always have to Geralt. You're allowed to just enjoy.” From his hips her lips moved just as light and airy with pleasant small kisses along his length.

“Anima still I-” If he wouldn’t quiet voluntarily she would make him. She was no longer brushing kisses but after along lick she took him. Words and all other forms of action were swept from him as he felt her patiently almost clinicly slip up and down. The hand in her hair bunched and part of him wanted to move her, take control, take relief faster but he didn’t, it released resuming the stroking from earlier. His hips wanted to buck, thrust deep into her but instead of hips he let his head buck instead, back in a groan of pleasure and frustration. That had please her, he could feel her smile against him and any sickness he felt melted away. "Something let me do something.” He still over thought, lost in want it nagged at him still that she was out of his reach that he was just sitting there, he grew twitchy in his seat. For a few moments longer she seemed content to ignore him, pulling more of those groans that she liked so much from deep in his throat but eventually she stopped. Kissing again, this was terribly unfair she couldn’t just go back to flirtatious nips at his thighs. Then she stood, just out of reach, she ran a thumb over Geralt’s bruising face. Her eyes though mostly lustful held a twinge of sadness, guilt.

He was bare and partially broken in front of her. He was a man, not a wolf, not a butcher not even a Witcher he was a man asking kindly to love her. Would moments like this, making him comfortable like this lead to his death. “Is this what you want Geralt?” She could keep Geralt, she would but it was not her choice entirely to what degree, in what fashion. He was strong and he knew himself better than she ever would. She had to trust him to know what he could and could not have and still endure. He pulled her close, till her knees were hitting the edge of the bed. Words had not returned to him, he gently lifted her top over her head, the rest of her clothing quickly followed hands scoping her curves as light as heavy hands would allow. The silence left her nervous, on edge, and his touch was dangling her directly over it, leaning to the security of his warmth. “Geralt?” He was gripping tighter at parts, watching carefully for blush to reach into her cheeks.

“I can’t . . . there isn’t time . . . not like I’d want there to be. If I could I’d-” He paused as he finally heard it, not a growl but a mewl come from her, saw her knees shake slightly, he could smell the heat on her. “I’d be soft with you. You deserve to be-”

“Geralt is this what **you** want? Not what you think I want or deserve. Don’t over think, just be selfish for one fucking moment in your life. What do you want?”

“I want . . .” He tried not to overthink, just to feel but it was awkward and uncomfortable. “To not have to be strong all the time.” He admitted and in his eyes Anima saw quite the rare sight, fear. He worried that she would desert him at the mere prospect of not being an obelisk of pure unrelenting strength. Fear gave way to surprise as he watched one of her legs hike over his.

“Would you be able to hold me Geralt?” She pulled his hand to the small of her back, he reached up his other as answer. “I’ll make you weak any time you ask Geralt.” As her other leg breached his thigh and she lowered herself onto him, she resumed butterfly kisses to scars as if her words hadn’t cracked his whole brain. Arms wrapped around Geralts neck as she beagn to ride, slowly as if time had no bearing, deeply as if he was conquerable. He closed his eyes trying to not fix his scrambled thoughts, just embracing the rhythm of her grinding, he didn’t have to speak, she seemed to know just when the slow pace was not enough moving more, taking more. He let his normally tight jaw go lax, let her tongue enter, lick mappingly along the inside of his mouth, even let it tackle and take his own. “Lie down Geralt.” And thoughtlessly he did, only the smallest worry bled through when she grunted and squirmed ontop of him as she took all of him.

“Ani-”

“Shh” Her pace resumed, the rhythm he could get lost in took him, his body moved on it’s own, moved to meet her. She took his hands away from her hips, no longer needing bracing, she laid them against her chest squeezing them encouragingly, prompting more thoughtless natural, soft movements. Every time he went to speak, she’d double her efforts, stalling the words out of him pulling those groans, always pulling them needfully. “Don’t hold strong for me Geralt. Come loose.” She cooed as she rocked forcefully. He bit down on his lip, regaining focus only for a moment, selfish was something that didn’t come naturally to him, he needed affirmation, he needed to see she would come undone with him. He knew where it was and found it with ease, moving his hips in just a way to hit along with her rhythm, he felt her grow tight around him. “Geralt!” And that was all either of them needed, a cry of going weak that Geralt himself could not make audible but he felt it, right along with her he didn’t snap but melted, cooked comfortably with completion. He groaned slightly as Anima crumpled down on him in satisfaction. “Better than eggs?” She chuckled nuzzling a cheek against his chest.

“Hmm” He kissed her atop her head, closing his eyes he let the weakness, the soft feelings linger a while longer.

Dinner was awkward. They still did not approve, not of Anima, not of Jaskier, not of Geralt’s plans of treking back to Lyria by morning. “Cut the difference, go through Temeria and get some contracts before circling back to Lyria.” Ever the problem solver Eskel tried to reason with the most opinionated collection of egos.

“With the bard and the bird? One of them will surely get themselves killed.” Lambert gave a dismissive snort.

“I don’t know Jaskier’s really mastered almost but not quite getting murdered or so I’ve heard from his songs.” Anima didn’t outright turn down the prospect and Geralt took note.

“It’s a delicate art.” Jaskier nodded.

“Anima I think-”

“I told you Geralt. Next time I packed my bag I would come along. Do you aim to make a liar out of me?” She was taking Merigold’s advice, making choices for herself, she would no longer be content missing Geralt, she needed to be beside him, in times when he was strong and times when he needed to be weak.

“Hmm.” She’d be safer in Lyria, that was a fact and he very much liked his facts. He wanted her at his side, and it would pain him to leave her yet again. As the conflicting notions battled, he’d allowed himself to be selfish again. “Fine. I’m still taking you home but we’ll take the long road.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've resigned myself that I can't do one shots. I left my secondary characters from Lyria and just swapped them out for witchers and thus things got longer and longer. Oh well.


End file.
